


Destiel One-Shot: Tension

by QuietWriter48



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel/Dean Winchester First Time, Castiel/Dean Winchester One Shot, Destiel - Freeform, Destiel One Shot, Dominant Castiel, Light BDSM, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Nonverbal Consent, Shameless Smut, Submissive Dean Winchester, Supernatural - Freeform, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, first time sexual encounter in an established relationship, m/m romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-17 08:45:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15457593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuietWriter48/pseuds/QuietWriter48
Summary: In which we see DomCas and SubDean, in a first sexual encounter, in a relationship admittedly fraught with sexual tension.  Very light BDSM elements, and consent is based on non-verbal cues, in a well established relationship. While some of SubDean's consent is assumed (see previous mention of this being a well established relationship),  SubDean has plenty of chances to speak up, and at no point is his ability to speak up or say no ever compromised.





	Destiel One-Shot: Tension

**Author's Note:**

> I can't say whether I'm presenting a healthy BDSM situation or not. I believe I am, because there is a pre-existing deep and intense level of trust that Castiel and Dean have developed over the years, in and out of some pretty hairy situations. What I have is based on that deep sense of mutual trust and mutual respect they have for each other. In addition, I've left Dean in a very easy situation where his ability to stop things is never compromised. Though 'safe words' are never used, he always has the ability to say no. In certain ways, you will see that Dean clearly sets the tone for the exchange, and IMO, that is a key to healthy Dom/Sub situations - the sub is really the one in control, at all times. It is a very light and easy Dom/Sub situation.

Castiel is restless, and he doesn’t understand why. He is restless, and he is vaguely frustrated, and the fact that he can’t pin anything down just makes it worse. It’s like he’s itching inside, but he can’t quite scratch it. He stands in the middle of the Bunker’s Vault room, flexing his wings and moving through various meditation exercises in an attempt to ‘get a handle on yourself, Cas’ as Dean instructed. For some reason, he feels inordinately aware of Dean. He doesn’t have to look at Dean to know he’s being watched on the sly, while Dean pretends to look at the same magazine page for the last half hour.  
Dean is seated at one of the main tables in the middle of the Bunker Vault, staring at a magazine and resolutely ignoring Cas. He’s not paying attention to the stupid angel, absolutely not. He’s not hypnotized by the snap and flush of Cas’s wings. Nope, not even a little. He’s not watching Cas out of the corner of his eye, and he hasn’t been staring at the same magazine page for at least thirty minutes, either. And he abso-friggin’-lutely hasn’t noticed the flex of muscles under sweaty skin as Cas moves through his martial arts workouts. Nope. Not watching. Not drooling; and certainly NOT fantasizing.  
Castiel finishes a series of moves with a snap of his wings, causing a cascade of feathers. Dean growls and shakes his head.  
‘I am so not cleanin’ that up, Cas.’  
Cas is irritated. He was just beginning to achieve a sense of calmness, when Dean has to open his mouth. Now Cas was filled with an irrational urge to wrestle the man down and make him beg. He blinks himself behind Dean where he still sits hunched over the table. Cas leans over Dean, bracketing Dean with his bare arms, hands fisted on the tabletop and his bare sweaty chest rubbing Dean’s tee shirt. His breath puffs Dean’s hair and threatens to send serious girly chills up and down his back.  
Dean stills, barely breathing, not moving. His magazine sits utterly forgotten in front of him. He can feel Cas’s body heat, feel the sweat soaking through his tee shirt. He can smell Cas’s peculiar musk, a mix of sweat and Grace and man and aftershave. He swallows a suddenly dry throat.  
‘When did I ask you to clean up after me?’ Cas growls, his lips brushing Dean’s ear. He never asked Dean to clean up after him. He always makes it a point to clean up after himself so Dean won’t feel compelled to. Dean has no right to insinuate he does otherwise. This thought makes him growl again.  
Dean is still and eerily silent. He is desperately telling himself that he is most certainly NOT enjoying this right now. He doesn’t like the way Cas smells, and he doesn’t like it that Cas is being aggressive, and he doesn’t like the way Cas is so close, and did he already say he doesn’t like it that Cas is being so aggressive? Well, he doesn’t. And he’s not sporting a boner right now, and if he is, it’s the busty Asian beauties from the magazine, not Cas and his muscles and his sweat and his… aggressiveness.  
He likes calm Cas better. Calm Cas is safer; calm Cas stays in his box and doesn’t bother Dean with fantasies that leave him gasping and jerking himself off in the middle of the night. And no, he doesn’t have dreams about Cas. And yeah, he’s a total cowardly liar. Busty Asian beauties, busty Asian beauties….  
Cas slides a hand over the tabletop and crumples the magazine in his fist, dropping it unceremoniously on the floor. Dean sighs, a very put upon and overdone affair. That didn’t turn him on, it actually pissed him off. Really. He’s not lying right now.  
‘Dammit, that was my favorite mag.’  
Part of Dean is frantically telling himself to shut the hell up already. The other half of Dean – the half he sadly admits he generally ends up listening to - wants to know what will happen if he pushes Cas. In his head he can hear Bobby mutter ‘idjits happen, that’s what’.  
Cas has been edgy, out of sorts, and moody lately. Dean can’t quite figure out what’s up. Cas started doing martial arts workouts (‘they are meditation exercises, Dean’) but Dean’s not sure they’re helping.  
The magazine spontaneously erupts in flames on the marble floor, and quickly fizzles out.  
Great. Thanks a lot, Cas. Now his favorite mag is a pile of ashes. Perfect.  
‘I find myself fighting the urge to take you down and make you beg.’  
Cas growls at him, his mouth still brushing Dean’s ear, still sending paroxysms of girly shudders up and down Dean’s spine. Not turned on, not turned on, Dean mutters to himself. He’s telling himself not to say it, don’t goad Cas, don’t go there….  
Shit.  
‘I’d like to see you try, Cas. You big fucking trenchcoated angel baby.’  
Shit!  
Dean’s eyes go wide and he cringes reflexively when he realizes what he’s just said.  
Cas tenses, and growls. Dean realizes it’s getting more and more difficult to ignore the tightness in his jeans. Crap. So not gay, so not gay, so not gay for Cas.  
‘That can be arranged, Dean.’  
Cas puts his hands on Dean’s shoulders and upper body, taking him by surprise and lifting him & tossing him face down onto the table top, scattering papers and knick knacks. Dean’s ass is nearly hanging over the edge of the table, and Cas is pressing into him from behind, settling his weight on Dean’s upper body, his groin pressing Dean into the tabletop. He shifts a hand out to pound the table top, like he’s a referee or something.  
‘One…’  
Cas manages to rock into Dean’s ass with every count, pressing him further and further into the tabletop. It should be uncomfortable and suffocating, but it’s not.  
It’s completely and totally hot, and Dean tells himself he’s not about to blow. Honest. He’s not painfully hard right now and he’s not in desperate need of jacking off.  
And he’s certainly not getting off on the fact that Cas is being aggressive right now.  
‘Two…’  
He feels Cas’s breath puffing against his ear.  
He’s not getting off on this.  
Really.  
Why is he trying to deny how he feels?  
God, he is such a fucking liar.  
‘Three…’  
Dean feels like Cas flipped a switch in his head, almost. Something inside him shifts. In place of his usual bravado and cockiness is the trust and respect he has for Cas.  
Dean's voice comes out on a moan. God, he needs to come. Like, now.  
‘Cas…’  
Cas feels his whole body respond to the change in Dean’s voice. Before it was hard, challenging, and more than a little snarky and cocky. Now, there is a soft and pleading note to Dean’s voice that Cas hasn’t heard before. He wonders how many women have heard this voice. He wants to hear it again. He’ll do anything to hear that tone in Dean’s voice again.  
‘Cas, please….’  
Dean begs outright now, his voice gentle and his body language compliant. His usual stubbornness and male bravado have taken a temporary vacation, and he can’t seem to make himself miss it.  
The submission in Dean’s voice is so foreign that Cas has to look down to make sure he’s not having one of his fantasies again. Nope, not a fantasy, and at least if it is it’s pretty damn real this time. And it really seems to be turning him on; Cas can’t remember the last time he felt this hard.  
‘Please let me come, Cas.’  
Dean is begging again.  
Dean never begs.  
Cas can barely believe what he’s hearing. Where did all this come from? Cas remembers his own angry, aggressive behavior.  
Could it be?  
Dean is no stranger to sex - either sex, any sex, and all the sex, all the time, with anything on two legs.  
Dean is also keen on always being the one in charge, everywhere, all the time.  
So Dean having a submission kink doesn’t seem to make sense.  
This gives Cas pause.  
Because Dean doesn’t have a submission kink, Cas realizes, and grins.  
Dean has an angel kink.  
A very specific angel-in-a-trenchcoat-named-Castiel kink.  
Dean has a kink for submitting to an angel who is the only one he really feels like he can trust.  
Castiel grins and rocks slowly and firmly against Dean again. He’s rewarded with a cursing Dean.  
‘Oh, Jesusfuck, Cas!’  
Dean swears incoherently as he comes hard in his jeans. God, that was intense. Zero to shooting off in three counts. That might be a new record, which is saying something for him. Dean rests his forehead on the tabletop. Cas grinds against him again, and Dean can feel Cas’s erection through his slacks. Dean knows there isn’t much he would deny Cas right now. He trusts Cas implicitly, without boundaries. Cas has more than earned that trust as long as they’ve known him. Cas has seen him at his worst and still anted up. Every. Time.  
Dean lets his body go limp and compliant under Cas. There was something freeing to just submitting to Cas's control, at least for a while.  
Cas can feel it when Dean lets himself go limp underneath him. He understands it as Dean’s way of submitting to him, especially given that Dean was just begging a minute ago. Dean is still sprawled on the tabletop underneath him, open and vulnerable. It doesn't look like much to most, but for a hunter of Dean's experience to show physical vulnerability... Cas feels very much humbled, and more than a little empowered.  
Dean's arms are stretched casually out in front of him, and he’s laid his head so that he can look over his right shoulder back at Cas, just out of the corner of his eye. He snags Cas’s shirt, previously forgotten under the paper litter on the tabletop, and uses it to loosely bind his hands together as he grins back at Cas.  
Dean’s gaze is still soft, but there’s playfulness there again. Cas looks at Dean’s hands bound up in his shirt and feels his dick stiffening with need. To see that Dean – Dean! – would trust him enough to let go of his precious control! He could feel his dick throbbing inside his slacks. His wings flexed and snapped with his need.  
He had to feel Dean’s skin.  
Cas reached under Dean’s waist and unsnapped his jeans. Dean didn’t question him, just obligingly sucked in his midriff and arched his back so Cas could take his jeans off. Dean was going commando, and Cas quirked a smile. Either he didn't feel like doing laundry, or he was a little frustrated sexually, or both. Cas saw the spudge stains on the jeans and felt his dick twitch. Dean had really been turned on.  
Dean’s jeans pooled around his ankles and he widened his stance a little, sliding around and resettling himself so his junk wasn’t trapped against the tabletop. He never questioned Cas, never objected. Cas glanced up at him, and Dean’s eyes were still playful, still soft over his shoulder, his stance still so open and vulnerable. Cas reached around Dean and felt his dick. Dean was already half hard again, despite coming a mere moment ago. It seemed Dean really enjoyed this.  
Cas grinned and stroked Dean a couple of times, testing him.  
Dean breathed in sharply, dropping his forehead to the tabletop.  
Cas was killing him – actually killing him - with sex.  
He couldn’t believe he was nearly ready to go again. Cas stroked him a couple of times and that’s all it took to get him all the way to painfully hard again. Of course, the fact that it was Cas’s hands on his dick might make a bit of difference. Dean turned to look over his shoulder grinned back at Cas.  
When Dean grinned back at him, it felt like a lightning bolt. He’d only had to stroke Dean a couple of times and he was already hard again. Cas undid his belt and dropped his slacks around his ankles. His dick bobbed free, tapping Dean’s ass. Dean leaned back a little, letting Cas know he was up for whatever Cas wanted. Cas leaned into Dean, letting his dick settle in the crack of Dean’s ass. He reached around and fondled Dean’s dick as he spoke.  
‘I would really like to have sex with you right now, but I’d rather wait until I can take my time and do it right.’  
Cas’s voice was apologetic, but his hands were sure.  
When he mentioned wanting to fuck, Dean couldn’t help the way his dick swelled. His eyes were soft when they met Cas’s, and he felt Cas’s dick swell a little.  
‘Please come for me, Cas,’ Dean whispered.  
He really needed Cas to come, he couldn't explain why, and didn't care to. Cas rubbed his dick against Dean’s bare ass and Dean moaned. It was torture, that’s what it was. To feel Cas’s dick right there, so close.  
‘Please, Cas? Just a quick one, please?’  
He couldn’t believe he was actually begging for it. Well, really, yes he could. God he had the hugest angel kink out there. Cas frowned a little and leaned back, giving Dean’s ass and hip a resounding smack.  
‘I said I would when I can take my time and do it right.’  
Cas’s tone was firm, his already low voice husky with need. Dean felt the sting on his hip, and felt his body go limp and compliant again while his dick stiffened.  
Jesusfuck he loved it when Cas was aggressive. He felt Cas’s dick swell again, and Cas resumed his pace.  
‘I need it, Cas. Please?’  
Dean begged again, knowing full well where it would get him. He grinned back at Cas.  
‘No,’ growled Cas.  
He grabbed a fistful of Dean’s hair and pulled Dean’s head back a little. Dean thought he would come right then and there. Cas managed to lean forward and bite Dean’s shoulder, firmly enough that it should have been painful. Dean felt himself leak precum.  
‘I said no, and if you ask me again, I’ll stop and go please myself in the bathroom.’  
Cas again resumed his pace, his dick rubbing Dean’s ass. He let go of Dean’s hair, pushing his head down on the table top, his hand pressing into Dean’s neck, holding him down. He didn't need to hold Dean down, he knew that, but it was part of the game for him to show dominance over Dean. He felt Dean subside, felt him relax.  
‘I’m sorry, Cas,’ Dean whispered.  
Who would have thought he had such a big kink for being bossed around by his angel? When Cas grabbed his hair and threatened him with leaving he thought he’d come right then and there. Cas pressed a kiss into his shoulder blade.  
‘As punishment, I’m going to come all over your ass, Dean. And you’re not gonna clean it up. I’m not gonna clean it up, either. You can take a shower before bed if you want, but you are going to spend the rest of the evening with my come all over your ass.’  
With that, Cas bit Dean’s shoulder so hard he wouldn’t have been surprised to feel blood dripping. Cas raised up a little as he pumped off against Dean’s ass.  
‘Now, jack yourself off Dean. I want to see you come again.’  
Dean unwrapped a hand from its bondage in Cas’s tee shirt and reached down, taking himself in hand. His pace soon matched Cas’s. He heard Cas’s wings snap up when he came. When he did, Cas moaned Dean’s name long and low, and his already baritone voice seemed to rumble through Dean’s body. Dean felt warm tendrils of come spurting over his lower back and came in his own hand.  
He felt Cas rub the still warm cum around his ass, and nearly got hard again. Dean moved to rub the jizz off on Cas’s tee shirt when Cas stopped him.  
‘Not on my shirt Dean.’  
Cas gently took Dean’s hand, turned him around facing him, and licked Dean’s hand clean.  
God, that was so hot. If he hadn’t just come twice in the last half hour, he’d be hard again.  
‘Put your jeans back on, Dean.’  
Cas’s voice was low and firm, and it rumbled through Dean.  
He paused.  
‘But Cas,’  
His jeans had jizz all over the inside.  
Cas frowned at Dean.  
He pulled Dean away from the tabletop and smacked his ass again.  
It stung, and Dean liked it. Who knew he liked having his ass smacked?  
‘I said, put your jeans on.’  
Cas’s voice brooked no argument, and he crossed his arms over his bare chest.  
Dean pulled his jeans on. He’d gone commando that morning; a combination of sexual frustration and an unfortunate refusal to do his own laundry.  
Cas leaned in close, grabbing Dean’s jaw and whispering in his ear.  
‘You can ditch the jeans when you shower at bedtime. Until then, this is your little reminder.’  
Cas twitched Dean’s head to the side a little, and bit into his neck, where his neck met his shoulder.  
Dean felt him sucking and biting.  
Jesusfuck, Cas was marking him.  
Holy heavens, that was hot.  
Dean felt himself go limp as a noodle again. When Cas was done, he reached around and cupped Dean’s ass with both hands, pulling him into him so they were flush from chest to thigh. He kissed Dean hard, dominating his mouth and making Dean's knees weak.  
Cas broke off the kiss and moved away from Dean, taking his tee shirt back. His previous aggression seemed to be gone, and he seemed to be back to the Cas that Dean was used to.  
'Feel like watchin' a movie,' Cas asked, smiling.  
Dean found himself a little at sea, but satisfied, in a way he hadn't experienced before. He smirked over at Cas.  
'How about a Lord of the Rings marathon?'


End file.
